


Folie À Deux

by AllMyShipss



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Past Fujiko/Lupin, Past Jigen/Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23285794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMyShipss/pseuds/AllMyShipss
Summary: This wasn't a trick or a bigger part of a plan. Lupin the Third was dead and he wasn't coming back.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Mine Fujiko, Past Lupin/Jigen - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Folie À Deux

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry in advance for the self indulgent angst! It was a worm in my brain I wrote on a whim and I've been sitting on it for quite a while now. Figured I might as well post sooner or later.
> 
> The song "We Almost Lost Detroit" by Gil Scott Heron is a lot of what inspired this, not so much the lyrics as much as the smooth sexy sad mood. Highly recommended listening!

They had scooped up Lupin where he had fallen and retreated, hoping to tend to him and but as Jigen drove the Fiat like a demon into the night they hadn't made it five miles before they realized this was not something Lupin would come back from. Fujiko and Goemon had frantically tried to put pressure on the wounds, Goemon tearing his robes hoping to make makeshift tourniquets but all it had taken was the one bullet that nicked the carotid artery to seal Lupin's fate. Jigen pulled over and the three of them sat there stunned, Lupin's blood on their clothes and skin and in their noses. This wasn't a trick or a bigger part of a plan. Lupin the Third was dead and he wasn't coming back.

They all agreed that no one could have Lupin's body. Not the cops, or their enemies or glory hounds looking for a figurative or literal piece of the thief's legacy. The work was quick and solemn. They washed away as much blood as they could, pressed Lupin's Walther into his hands, then carefully wrapped him in a sheet and took him out onto the ocean just before sunrise. Lupin had left behind a pretty enough corpse and Jigen thought bitterly that Lupin would have approved, the vain showboat he was.

Was.

The three of them watched as the shrouded form sunk into the darkness of the water and none of them spoke. All three of them were crying but none of them acknowledged it. They rowed silently back to shore.

The Fiat had been soaked in blood. Jigen personally doused it in kerosene and lit it up. No evidence. No loose ends. No messy lingering mementos.

Goemon said nothing when he left. Just turned and walked away from the burning car and didn't answer when Jigen called after him. He was most likely planning on returning to his training. It would be his best way of coping, Jigen assumed. He didn't pursue the samurai.

Jigen rode behind Fujiko on her motorbike back to the motel they had been using before the job had gone bad. They went back to their rooms without exchanging a word.

Jigen sat in the shower washing away the kerosene and the blood of his best friend. He drank from the half-empty bottle of bourbon he and Lupin had been sharing only the night before. When he drained it he let the bottle roll over to the drain, forgotten. He was cold inside despite the heat of the water. His eyes stung with salt. It felt like there were no tears left. He stayed under the spray until the water went cold.

When the knock came on the door, it was timid and small and Jigen almost didn't hear it. When it sounded again, Jigen pulled himself from the bed where he had been laying staring into nothing. He opened the door, knowing it would be Fujiko. She was in a simple blouse and skirt, these not soaked with blood and judging by the towel dried hair brushed away from her face, she must have had the same plans as Jigen had. Whether she was as drunk as him right now was yet to be seen.

They both stood staring at one another, she on the outside and he on the inside. It was like they both stood on opposite sides of a portal to a dark fairy world neither of them was entirely sure how to navigate. Neither of them knew if they wanted to.

It was Fujiko who moved first. She reached out with her long delicate hand and gently took hold of Jigen's open shirt, just over his heart. It was a soft unsure touch. She did not pull or move anymore, just held on weakly to make sure Jigen was real and solid. And alive.

They stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity and it was only then they could see all the pain and uncertainty that had hold of them both. It was the only time they ever felt they understood the other. Lupin was the only thing they had in common and he was dead. Both of them felt more alone than they ever had before. Standing there was the only person that knew Lupin as well as Jigen did. Even with her makeup washed away, and her eyes red with crying it was remarkable how beautiful she still was. It was no surprise Lupin had fallen for her. Jigen knew that Lupin fell in love a little with everyone he cared for. His big heart had always made him a target and that had made Jigen want to protect him.

"Who was she?" Fujiko had asked once after Jigen had spat a passive aggressive barb about how much trouble women were. When Jigen, of course, asked who, Fujiko had replied through a cold smile: "The woman who hurt you so bad. I'd like to shake her hand." Jigen had been so fed up with her he couldn't say anything for fear of his emotions getting the best of him and actually hitting her. 

He had wanted to tell Fujiko that the woman who had hurt him was her and every other woman who had taken Lupin away from him and then sent him back with his heart bruised and no one but his best friend to comfort him until the next set of long legs came by. Every woman who dragged Lupin back in just when Jigen was getting ready to finally say why he was always there when Lupin needed him.

But now she could never hurt him again and without the tether of Lupin between them, they felt as if they must cling to one another or risk drifting away to a gruesome end like shipwrecked sailors with no lifeline to speak of.

Fujiko moved to enter the room and Jigen let her. The door clicked shut like a prison cell. Jigen didn't know who had closed the distance first; whether it had been Fujiko's hand that had traveled up his chest to mingle in his hair or his arms encircling her slight form to press his palms to the plains of her back. It didn't matter. When their lips touched it was laced with shallow breath and the lump in Jigen's throat grew thicker with heady emotion. Fujiko moved with tentative grace like a nervous doe. Her kiss was careful but giving, like she hadn't used it to end men's lives and fortunes and take the man Jigen had loved from him more times than he could count and the concept of Fujiko Mine, the only truly dangerous woman that ever existed, kissing like a virgin aroused Jigen deeply, much to his shame and amazement.

Her body was sweet and warm and soft. Different from Lupin's runner's body, all sharp edges and hard flat muscle. He wanted her despite the salt of tears and the bitter bite of gin on her lips. It met and combined with the spice of bourbon on his own after all. They were just alike even in their sorrow and passion.

They had always both been the types that wanted it all but now they shared. Shared their grief and pain and loss for the man who bound them together. Shared the comfort of the bodies they had both given him and the love and devotion he had given in return. It was a fifty-fifty split. The only one Fujiko had never haggled on.

It was like a beautiful melancholy madness had descended over both of them, slow-building but addictive. He kissed the swell of her breast and throat and she returned deliberate soothing kisses to his brow, hands just so on his chest, feeling his living heartbeat. 

He felt her orgasm more than he ever heard it. He always assumed she would be a loud and boisterous lover touting the prowess of the man she was with but now he knew it was all show. She was quiet then aside from a click in her throat and the low breathy shudder before her muscles went tense and her body was wracked with shivers. She was real in this moment, perhaps more real than she had ever been in the arms of a man. Not a femme fatale or a heartless alley cat with an agenda. She was merely a woman as he was merely a man then and she could not hide from him.

Afterward, they laid in the bed, naked sweating bodies pressed together and limbs intertwined. It was the same bed that Lupin had slept in the night before. His scent clung to the sheets and mixed with that of their still fresh sex. Jigen felt the wet warmth of Fujiko's breath high on his chest. He buried his nose into her hair and held her tight. She squeezed him back in return. 

They laid still there for what felt like ages. The protection the other afforded was irreplaceable. 

"They won't get away with it." Fujiko had said at last. Jigen knew that she had meant at once. The dark inference was not lost on him. It made his heart sink and at the same time his blood rush with fury. 

"We'll be the best that ever was." He answered.

"For Lupin." she said without hesitation.

"For Lupin." He agreed. 

There had been a trail of bodies in their wake. The ones who had killed Lupin, their bosses and their bosses' bosses.

He was with her constantly after that. No prolonged separations, only coming back together when the gang had a big enough job. They had become dedicated partners without ever really discussing it. There were long nights of slow meticulous lovemaking to the sound of Nina Simone and Gil Scott Heron on the radio (or sometimes just the hiss of rain and boom of distant thunder), days sleeping in, ensconced in each other's arms only woken by bands of late afternoon sunlight creeping across their bodies. And always the hunt. The chase. Score after amazing score that made their hearts hammer with the miraculous thrill that only thievery could provide. It was like a virus that consumed them. A sweet sickly fever that incubated between the two of them where Lupin had been patient zero. 

He had seen her naked body strewn with diamonds and sapphires but he decided his shirt,l buttoned and gathered around her shoulders, was best of all.

They would occasionally see Goemon for jobs but the time between grew longer and longer until they just stopped checking in. Lupin was the lynchpin personality holding them together and it was only a matter of time until they drifted apart. Goemon returned to his training, they presumed. It was the one constant he still had. He always dealt better alone or so he said. There was the suspicion that Goemon took it harder than he let on and being in their presence probably hurt more than it helped but neither of them could say for sure. Besides, when the three of them were together, it was impossible to not be distantly reminded they were absent of one final piece. 

He woke one morning to find he knew just how she took her coffee without even thinking about it. Dark, strong and not too sweet. The first time she had told him she made a joke of it by pointedly eyeing him and adding that was how her tastes ran as of late. He didn't scoff as he normally might. As a matter of fact, he found himself smiling wryly.

Their coffee has gone cold on the counter that morning.

He sometimes felt guilty. He suspected that so did she. Guilty that it was Lupin who had died instead of him. Guilty that it was the thief's death that had allowed them to find each other. Guilty that they had never been happier in their lives.

Those time never seemed to last long.


End file.
